Those Days will Never Come
by Letter to Miss
Summary: When Hinata hears the news, she loses all hope. In the depths of her despair, a plot for the insane begins to emerge. Only time can tell what will become of Hinata. Completed!
1. Loss

Chapter One

I hold my breath, closing my eyes.

My ear is pressed to the thin door to my father's office. He doesn't know I'm here, and I really hope that it stays that way. My ears aren't as strong as my eyes, which might be why I it becomes harder to hear when their voices become softer.

"What do you mean?" the voice of my cousin, Neji, comes loud and clear through the shroud of silence.

I don't hear my father's reply.

I originally had decided to eavesdrop, because I was interested in the affair that my father has been calling Neji in to talk to for months now. I haven't mentioned my knowledge of this to anyone, not even my best friends, Kiba and Shino. Normally, I would tell things like this to Shino, but not in this case. I don't want to involve them. I don't know what the circumstances may be, and I don't know if those circumstances may get them hurt.

Another long, excruciatingly loud silence rings out through the long hallway. I feel like my mind will explode from the tension, when I hear Neji's voice again. At first I believe that this is a relief, even if it is some unintelligible noise. I'm wrong, completely and totally wrong. I freeze as I hear the door make a clicking noise. I can't be caught. I won't let myself be caught.

I am just turning to run when my father, Hiashi, steps out.

I stop in mid-stride. My face burns in shame. I keep my eyes rooted to the ground. "Hello, Hinata," my father says coldly.

"F-f-f-father, I c-c-can explain," I reply, my face growing redder at my constant stammering.

He doesn't answer me, waving a hand for me to follow.

I oblige hesitantly, quickening my pace to walk beside him. His expression is grim, and I cringe in fright. In my family, grim never means good, but has it ever? "Hinata," my father glances at me from the corner of his eye.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you remember Naruto, Uzumaki Naruto?"

"Of course!" I say defensively. _How could I forget?_

"Oh…" he clears his throat. "I'm afraid that there has been a… _misunderstanding_."

"Misunderstanding?"

"Yes."

"W-w-what do you mean?"

"Sadly, Naruto is-"

"Is what?" my voice is growing higher in hysteria. "Don't keep playing around with me!"

"Dead," my father finishes. His deep voice has just broken through all of my swirling thoughts.

"D-d-d-dead?" my voice holds no emotion, although I feel like I'm going to scream.

"Like I said," a gust of icy wind blows through my heart as he speaks, "there was a misunderstanding."

I let it out. Right then and there.

My screams echo throughout the massive house. I cover my own ears as I continue my shrieking, tears streaming down my pale face. My father watches in cold indifference. He begins to talk, but I drown him out with my screams. "SHUT UP!" I screech, my protective shell beginning to crack, "JUST SHUT UP!"

_Smack. Smack._

I blink slowly, my cheeks stinging. I look up at my father, who is now standing over me. I let out a small whimper, willing my tears to stop. My legs begin to buckle. I slide down to the wooden floor, my hand over my mouth. If I take it off, the screaming will start again. It's likely that everyone in the house will come running after my first outburst, and it'd be worse than hell if they all found me like this. My father's shadow falls upon me, and I glance up. His mouth is set in a grim line, his forehead filled with many creases of worry. My hands are shaking now. I can't tell whether it is from fear or rage. "Father… what was the misunderstanding?" I manage to say, keeping my voice barely louder than a whisper.

He steps away from me.

My heart must be bleeding as he walks away at a brisk pace. A strange numbness is flooding through my body. I stand. My legs are still shaky, and I put an arm to the wall to steady myself. _Naruto's gone. He's gone. _

_I'll never see his bright, smiling face again._

I begin to run down the hallway, searching for my bedroom. _I'll never hear his encouraging words outside of my dreams._ I throw open my bedroom door. _I'll never be able to laugh with him. _I slam it closed. _I'll never be able to tell him how I felt. _I fall onto my bed. _I'll never be able to encourage him just as he encouraged me. _I shove my tear-stained face into my pillow. _I'll never… I'll never…_

My eyes blink open.

The room is cold, and dark. A crescent moon glows faintly in the night sky outside my window. Naruto… my mind begins to whirl again. There's still so much confusion left, and if it overwhelms me, well, that would suck.

A question begins tugging at the edge of my conscience.

A question that I don't know the answer to.

Who killed him?

The first person who comes to mind is Sasuke.

Although it seems that everyone admired and cared for Naruto, I know that he was different. It came through clear in his cold and distant body language before he'd left, where he went I don't know, but he could've easily come back and killed him… no. Everyone knows that Sasuke won't come back. I'm being stupid just thinking like this.

Another, more nauseating thought enters my mind.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't want to think this way. My father…. My own father…. He wouldn't, would he? The obvious is knocking on the front door to my brain, but I won't allow myself to see it. My mind is telling me yes. I tell it to shut up. I take a quick peek out from beneath my eyelids. The room is the same as I left it. I shut my eyes again. A face with an empty, blank, _dead_ expression is the only thing I see in the never-ending abyss of blackness.

I can't help myself.

My hands, my _mind's_ hands, reach out towards it, caressing its cold cheeks. A strange feeling washes over me as my fingers trace over caked blood. I know this face from somewhere.

A scream, much louder than my scream earlier, escapes my lips.

"Naruto," I choke out, gagging as the face grows larger.

I rummage through my desk drawers, tears streaking down my face.

I sink to the floor. A few minutes pass, when I realize what is resting in the palm of my left hand. A package of kunai.


	2. Revenge

I push on the door gingerly.

The hallway is lurking with shadows; it seems as if they're watching me. My heart is a pounding drum in the empty silence. I bite my lip, a wave of dizziness rushing over me. Again, the pain, well, it is pain at first, but then it becomes something else. Something that I've only felt once in my life.

My vision rarely fails, but I do believe that I'm seeing red.

The package of kunai clatters to the floor. I bend down to pick it up, my hands trembling uncontrollably. I grit my teeth, wincing when the kunai falls from my hand within a moment of me picking it up. I sit down on the floor, holding my hands in my lap. I wait for a good ten minutes, hugging my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth. This feeling, it's not getting weaker as I lay huddled on the floor. It's overwhelming.

My fingers grab hold of the package this time, and I pull it to my lips. I kiss it gently, smiling to myself. This is all that I need. My eyes close blissfully. The plan, _my_ plan really, is about to begin. Only time shall tell how it will end.

I rap my fist on the master bedroom, once, twice, three times.

The only reply is a loud, echoing snore. I twist the knob cautiously. It opens, creaking ever so slightly. I don't want to hear it, so I pretend not to.

The only light in the room is a pale stream of moonlight that passes through the thin curtains. My father is laying on the futon, his face in a state of peacefulness. My mother is missing, as usual. I bring my finger to my father's cheek, kneeling down to my knees. "Father," I whisper.

His eyes blink open drowsily.

"Father."

Father yawns, glancing up at me.

The corners of his mouth begin to twitch downward into a frown, but instead he lifts them into a smile. "Hinata?" he asks sleepily.

"Hello, Father," I hold my hands behind my back.

"Why are you here?" he glances over at the clock on the bedside table, "And at this hour? Daughters... "

"I believe I've realized something, Father."

"What may that be?"

"Something is wrong," I state frankly, "very wrong."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Like what? I apologize for having to tell you about Uzumaki-san, his death was rather untimely."

I stiffen. "Yes, yes it was," I reply.

"Is that all you've realized?" he snaps. "If that's all you have to say, go to bed."

"That's not all I have to say," my voice has become deathly quiet; I slide up from my position on the floor.

Father begins to glare at me. If looks really _could_ kill, I would be laying on the floor right now.

"I know what you're hiding," I say.

This brings a strong reaction out of him.

His hands are gripping the edge of his futon so tightly that his knuckles are white. A smile of satisfaction plays across my lips as his own form silent words. I pass the kunai from hand to hand behind my back. "H-how did you learn this?" he stammers, expression panicked. It's nice to hear someone else stutter and stammer for once.

"I figured it out myself."

I bring the kunai out from behind my back, watching as his face becomes the same color as his knuckles. I raise it over my head, failing to suppress a laugh. I pause.

The laugh doesn't sound like my own.

It sounds like the laugh of a madwoman, not someone like me. I bite my lip. Another bolt of laughter escapes. This time, however, I block it out of my mind, as I do with many things.

I bring the kunai down, plunging it through Father's right eye.

He screams shrilly, his hands flying up to protect his face. They fall feebly within seconds. I thrust the knife downward, slicing though his cheek. Blood splatters onto my face, causing me to choke out another laugh. The blood drips down into my mouth, it's metallic taste and smell filling my senses. My kunai continues its trail down his neck. The amount of blood pouring out seems as if it could fill buckets. I giggle, removing my kunai from his shoulder blade. "N-naruto," I murmur, bringing the bloody kunai to my lips again.

"I'll miss you," I whisper into its stained blade, "but I'm not done yet."

I think for a moment. "For your sake, N-naruto, I'll be done…" I say, then adding, "for tonight."


	3. Obsession

I take in a deep breath to regain my composure as I sit on the soft dirt in the small field. My friends, Kiba and Shino, are standing over me, their eyes clouded in worry. I try to smile reassuringly, but I am pretty sure that my ruse isn't working. Kiba reaches a tanned hand out to me, waiting for me to take it. I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks; I've never been good in an even moderately romantic situation.

He raises a chocolate-colored eyebrow expectantly, his hand still outstretched. I don't take it, instead pushing myself up with my nearly white hands. His mouth opens as if to make a comment, but he appears to think better of it and doesn't say anything. I lower my gaze, keeping my hair over my eyes like a navy mask. Shino's dark sunglasses hide his quick glance between the two of us, I can tell just by the way his mouth twists from side to side. "Hey, Hinata," Kiba begins, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, "why weren't you at training today?"

I shrug.

"Shino called, and he said that you said that you'd meet us here," he cocks his head to the side in a dog-like manner, "but how could you come meet us here but not come to training?"

I don't allow myself to say the answer.

"Hinata?" Shino asks.

"I wasn't doing anything!" I say quickly, my face paling.

"Why didn't you come then?" he asks, moving in closer.

"No reason," I say, taking a step backwards.

"Really?" Kiba joins Shino, moving forward as I continue to stumble backwards.

"Y-yes!" I squeak, trying to forget what I had been doing. It was most definitely not something that Kiba and Shino would want to hear.

"Are you sure about that?" Kiba asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Very, very sure?" Shino's deep voice is as quiet as Kiba's.

"Very s-sure," I stammer, grunting when I trip over Akamaru's sleeping body. Some ninja I am.

"Hinata-chan," Kiba bends down, bringing his face close to mine.

My breath catches in my throat. They've neve_r_ pressured me so much about something, _anything_, really. I feel as white as a ghost while Kiba's warm breath reminds me that I'm far from dead. Even if I might just pass out, I'm glad of one thing. They don't know what I was doing. If I can have my way, they will _never_ find out how I spent the earlier part of my afternoon.

Father's body had been much heavier than I had anticipated. The floor was quite a mess to pick up as well, considering the amount of bleach and air freshener it took to get rid of the sight and smell of blood. After cleaning up, I used the blankets and various items from Father's futon to wrap his body in. How ironic would it be, to have your remains bundled and wrapped in the very same blankets you were killed on?

A faint, ominous smile illuminates Kiba's once shadowed face. I don't move, rooted to the spot. I don't know how, but he must know what I did. He's going to hurt me, I can tell. His hand grips my wrist. A scream is rising within me. I don't know what he is doing to me, but I'm scared. The smile frightens me more than everything else. It's then when he comes in closer than ever before, his lips touching mine. I recoil, my shriek bursting out and filling the whole forest with sound. Kiba takes a quick step back, laughter spilling out from him. I scramble to my feet, giving him a hard push in the chest. His laughter doesn't falter.

It's too much for me to handle. I turn away from Kiba and Shino, my feet beginning to work on their own, pulling me away from their laughing faces. If you asked me what had just happened, I wouldn't be able to tell you. All I know is that I'm scared, so scared… so confused… so lost….

I don't know what's going on. I've always cared for Naruto. Maybe I hadn't loved him at first, maybe I never had the guts to do anything, maybe there was something missing. I never doubted that, even when he showed no love or feelings for me, I loved him.

They wouldn't understand. My fists are shaking as I stare into the cloudy October sky. Whatever Kiba has done to me, it's struck down in my inner core. He must know, and if he does, I'll have to…

I don't want to think about it. They're my friends, my only friends. I bury my face in my hands. Friends… what do they matter anymore? Allowing myself to become to close to anyone could mean their own demise, or my secret being revealed. Neither of which is a pleasant option, I'm sad to say.

"Hinata-chaaaaaaaaaan?"

I freeze. They're following me. Friends, what stupid creatures they are. I fumble in my sweater's pockets for a kunai, praying that I can avoid the almost inevitable. I hear Kiba's call again, this time closer. Slipping behind a tree, I take a quick breath.

Don't come near me Kiba, please. My conscience is begging him. In the back of my mind, I don't want to hurt anyone. Unfortunately, this won't be the case. A conscience, who needs one? I laugh defiantly out loud. This battle is won.

"Hinata?" his rough voice sounds worried now as I hear Kiba's large hands pawing through various brush and fallen leaves.

I giggle. Why should I care for my friends? They're nothing, nothing compared to what I've gone through. Kiba and Shino can't help me. If they can't help me, what can? Therapy? That's just too funny.

I finally find the kunai in my pocket. It's stained with the blood of my father all the way up to the handle. That's to be expected, considering what I did after I knew he was dead. I wonder where the heart went?

"Found you."

I look up in alarm. Kiba's dark eyes are staring into my eyes of pale lavender. The tree I had thought of as a wonderful hiding spot has become the very prison in which I am trapped. His hand finds its previous spot on my left wrist. I shudder, my mouth open in a wide "O." Kiba's expression darkens in concern. Concern that I'm sure is false. "Hinata-chan?" he asks quietly, obviously frightened by my reaction.

"Kiba…" I begin, trailing off into silence.

"Why did you run?"

"I-I," the hand that had spent its time rummaging through my pocket is clutching the kunai, "I don't know."

"Hinata," his voice takes a serious tone as his grips tightens on my pale wrist.

"Leave me alone!" I shriek, blushing profoundly.

"You've never freaked out like this before…" Kiba murmurs, "never."

"Shut up!" I attempt to pull away in vain, realizing in horror that Kiba's hold is much stronger than I thought.

"Is it because you haven't gotten much sleep lately? You've got circles under your eyes."

"No! Yes! I don't know!" I cry.

"I just needed to tell you something," he turns away, letting go of me. "But I don't think you'd want to know what it is.

_I don't need my friends. I don't need my friends. _I don't need them. I don't want them. Why don't they seem to understand that all I want is for them to leave? Kiba, well, he might be different. I have almost no doubt that he knows, and I don't want him to get hurt because of it. Too bad for him, because that he probably will.

_

* * *

I guess this is what happens when you watch a bunch of Higurashi AMVs and listen to "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" seven times in a row. I'll try to update soon! Thanks for reading!~_


	4. Leaves

I collapse onto the couch, my breath still coming out in quick little bursts. Nothing happened. Kiba doesn't know anything. I was at training today. I never killed anyone. I never…

I _did _kill someone. Something happened, and whatever it was, it unnerved me. I'm positive that Kiba knows. I skipped training to bury the body. My eyes close involuntarily. My brain greets me with the sight of my kunai tearing through Father's neck. My eyes jolt open. I think I'm going to puke all over the rug.

"Onee-san?" the door slides open to reveal my younger sister, Hanabi.

"What?" I ask.

"Have you seen Father?"

"No."

"Rea-?"

"No."

Hanabi blinks in bewilderment; I'm sure that she's never seen me like this before. I want to apologize. Hanabi's my sister, and while we've never been close, I still care about her in a strange, sisterly way. I used to hope desperately that we'd become closer, but then _Father (Stupid son of a bitch) _separated us, giving us different ranks that kept us apart most of the time. "Do you want to rake the yard?" Hanabi asks, smiling innocently.

I'm sure of it; she's no longer innocent. "Sure, sure," I stand, suspicion overwhelming my five senses.

"Maybe Father's out there," Hanabi says hopefully, taking many small steps to reach the door. "Come on, onee-san!"

**

I sweep the rake back and forth, combing the yard's dirty hair free of leaves. I pretend that I'm raking Kiba's mind for answers. A light breeze blows, lifting a single leaf from its moist home and carrying it through the air. It catches in my hair, quickly becoming ensnared and unmoving. I sigh. That leaf is as trapped as I am. "Onee-san?"

"What, Hanabi?" I sigh in exasperation.

"You know how I was at a sleepover last night, and that's when Father disappeared? You were here, so you must know something, right?" she avoids my eyes, shuffling her feet nervously.

"No," I grip the rake as hard as I can, my knuckles a sickly white.

"Really?" Hanabi takes the opportunity to gather more leaves into a pile.

"Haven't we already had this conversation?" I say this through my teeth; I know that I'm a totally awful liar.

"Yeah, but-!"

"Just shut up about it."

I swear that the whole yard has just become a whole shade darker. The once refreshing breeze is colder, and I shiver. I wonder if this is Naruto's way of telling me that something is wrong. That can't be true. He's dead; he can't do anything. Spirits don't have that sort of power, do they? Maybe he's showing his support, or maybe it was just some weird coincidence. That has to be it. I shake my head. This is all so confusing… "You know what happened to Father."

"Hm?" I break out of my bubble, surprise flooding my veins.

"You were there," Hanabi's gaze is cold, no longer the sisterly gaze that we had once shared.

"No I wasn't," I laugh nervously, toying with my jacket's zipper.

"You were there."

"Stop repeating yourself."

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

"I said to stop."

"But-!"

"STOP!" Hanabi drops the rake, her sweat dripping down her rather large forehead.

An idea, and one that scares the shit out of me, worms its way through my skull. They know. They _all _know, and they're coming for me. My sister, well, she's never known me very well. I bet she would turn me in in exchange for any information about my father, or maybe even in exchange for absolutely nothing. I want to bang my head on a wall for my stupidity. How can I even think of trusting my family? They killed Naruto; I just know that they did. It was all Father's fault. He was the one who pulled the strings, there's no doubt about it. He ruined everything. My hopes, my dreams, my fantasies, my goddamn _life_, all gone just like _that_. Hanabi might've known something about it; he cared about her a hell of a lot more than me. Now that I think about it, Father must've loved her enough to tell her some of the family secrets. Hanabi must be the key to this! My loss won't be the only price she'll pay for this… this… murder.

"Hey," I say lightly.

"What?" she snaps, "I know you're hiding something, so stop trying to be nice about things. I don't care what you say. You suck at lying."

"I was just going to tell you that you have a leaf in your hair," I laugh, stalking over to stand behind her, my rake heavy in my hand.

"Why don't you just leave the rake there?" Hanabi begins, "You don't need-"

I don't let her answer.

Slamming the rake upon her small, fragile head, I let out a shriek of pure fury. "I hate you!" I shout, tearing the rake's claws through her nearly white skin. Blood splatters on my face, getting in my eyes, staining my jacket, and covering my weapon's handle. "You fucking killed him!" I score the rake down the side of her head, hearing a sickening tearing noise. "You killed him!" A mangled ear falls to the ground. "You killed him!" Another slice. "Why?" _Rip._ "Why!?" _Rip. _"WHY!?!"

I realize that I am slashing at the air.

Her body has been laying on the ground for some time now. A drop of blood makes its path down one of the rake's claws, finally dripping down onto her cold, dead lips.

* * *

Here is the long awaited fourth chapter of Those Days Will Never Come. Enjoy! ^-^

- Onikakushi


	5. Punishment

_Ring around the rosie._

_ A pocketful of posie._

_ Ashes, ashes,_

_ We **all** fall down._

How much more true can that be? I snuggle more into the thick blanket that I've become lost in, trying to ignore the bangs on my front door. I'm falling down. We're all falling down. No one can stop us from falling; there's no point in trying. I let out a whimper, the heat from the fireplace scorching my exposed face. Ashes flutter from the burning flesh of my sister's body, coming close to me but never making it all the way.

The shouts and clamors are even louder now. I want to tell who ever it is to go away; they're all after me, so why should I care about who I yell at? The more the better, and I won't hesitate to bitch at everyone who knows what I've done. "HINATA!" someone screams from the entrance.

I roll my eyes and stand up from my comfortable nest. The blankets fall down around my ankles; I step over them to get to the door of the room. Now the shouts are starting to irritate me. I glance over at the kunai, placed so perfectly on the mantle, and decide against it. I think that there's a war going on inside of my head. Logic versus Fear.

And fear is winning.

I snatch the kunai from its previous place, dropping it into my pocket and stalking over to the door. I press my cheek against it, giggling at the way it shakes and dances under me.

The door flies open, smacking into me and throwing me against the wall. I freeze, my eyes flitting from exit to exit like a caged animal. My vision spun; the room was upside-down. A figure stood in the doorway, blocking one of my few escapes. I shakily got to my feet, swaying for a moment before taking a tentative step backwards. "Hinata?" Kiba, the figure in the doorway, asks, rushing forward to my aid.

"Leave me alone!" I cry, rushing backwards.

"They're coming, Hinata," Kiba says softly, stopping in his tracks.

"What are you talking about?" I laugh nervously, clinging onto the mantle to stop myself from falling.

"They found him. Your father. In the woods," Kiba says, his words hurting me more than any wound I've ever received.

I take off running, my shoulder slamming into a doorway as I pass through. Kiba's footsteps pound behind me, following me. "Wait!" he reaches his hand out, grabbing onto the back of my shirt. I try to pull away, screaming unintelligible phrases and curses. Kiba refuses to let me go; his hand holds steady. A ripping noise tangles into my muddled conscience, bringing me out of my fit. A piece of my shirt lays in his tanned hands, and I snarl. "You bastard," I growl; he had to have told them. I don't know how he would've known, but he knew, and he told.

"It's okay," he comes closer; I flinch.

"You told them!" I say accusingly, backing up more and more until my back hits the wall.

"No," he replies, now within an arm's reach.

I begin to shrink into the wall, when something strange happens. I'm warm, I don't know how, but I'm warm. So secure, so calm, so _warm_…

My face is pressed into the folds of Kiba's jacket, which smelled of straw and syrup and puppies. "It's okay, Hinata," Kiba murmured into my ear, his breath smolderingly hot against my skin. "You'll be fine."

I just want to forget. I don't want to be stuck here, trapped inside of my own mind. Kiba might be the one who exposed what I've done to them, but I don't want to be stranded here. I don't want to be alone.

I fall into him, letting myself be caught in his arms and pulled into an embrace. "K-Kiba-kun?" I stammer; the pieces of myself are still scattered amongst the abyss of my mind. He wasn't helping. Kiba, who had been my lifelong friend, and while he had told them of my crimes, I had still had some faith that he would somehow save me from the prison I have built within me. Inside of here, I can't find Naruto. Kiba was supposed to save me; he _had_ to save me. Who else would? "Hinata?" he answers.

"You didn't help," I reply, hoping that my cold words will cut as far into my heart as he did into mine.

"Help with what?" he asks innocently; he must already know.

"You can't do anything," I whisper. "No one can."

"Sure I can," Kiba smiles. "I can get you out. We can run away; I'll take care of you!"

"_Liar_."

"I'm trying to help you, Hinata."

He didn't help me. He couldn't even try. And he never will. Kiba is useless, except for his ability to royally piss me off. My free hand digs through my pocket, gripping onto my oh-so familiar kunai. I draw it out carefully, making sure that Kiba doesn't notice its presence. "Kiba," I purr, pushing myself upward so that we can see eye-to-eye. "I'm sorry."

He smiles gently. "At least you know that you've done is-!"

I plunge the kunai into his neck, letting out a long, shrill cry. "I NEVER SHOULD'VE TRUSTED YOU! I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO TELL YOU ANYTHING, BUT YOU KNEW!" Kiba crumples to the floor, his hands fluttering around his throat, from which blood is gushing out in fountains. "YOU COULDN'T SAVE ME OR NARUTO! YOU'RE JUST AN IDIOT…" my voice falters; I begin to sink down on the floor. "You're just an idiot…" I whimper, "and a really stupid one at that."

I don't know who I'm talking to anymore. If it is Kiba or me, I'll never know. I've lost track of who I am, or rather what I've become. I bring my shaking kunai holding hand up to my own neck. I miss them, all of them. Kiba, Hanabi, Father, Naruto. I can't remember why, but I was attached to them. But all of that is fading away now, and the only thing that exists anymore is the looming prospect of my punishment. I've committed so many crimes, and there's only one way for me to pay back the people that I've condemned. My trembling hand holds the kunai to my throat; more bangs pound on the door, and this time I know who they are. It's _them _trying to get me. I glance over at Kiba. "I'll see you in hell," I murmur, finally slashing through my own flesh, and fading into oblivion.

* * *

And here is the long awaited ending to Those Days Will Never Come! Yes, I know that this is a bit of a short fic, but I really hope that the ending satisfied all of you! The reason that it came out so soon is that after I came across some inspiration, I began writing like crazy and finished this over the course of about four days. Thank you for sticking with me over these few months, and thank you for reading!

-Onikakushi


	6. Resolution

Sakura flies into the room, beads of sweat dripping down her face, hands covered in her own blood. She has been spending the better part of the hour trying to get into the locked house, and now that she is in, she wishes only that she could go back to pounding on the outside. Her vision is blurry with tears of frustration, and when she trips over Kiba's mutilated corpse, she is not sure what she is falling over.

The only thing she is sure of is that Kakashi commanded her to come here after they discovered Hiashi's body in the woods. His remains had been lying in the leaves, insect ravaged, maggots crawling from his gaping mouth. Sakura had thrown up at the sight, and while Kakashi had been sickened, too, he kept it to himself. To show his revulsion was not an option. He was the one who checked the corpse, looked for signs of who had committed such an atrocious crime, and discovered the truth that shocked him to his core.

A chunk of Hinata's hair in Hiashi's skeletal hand. No matter how hard Kakashi tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't deny that it was hers. Who else in Konoha had such dark, violet hair? Who else, other than himself, would've had the motive to slaughter Hiashi in such a manner?

"Naruto should be here," Sakura whispered after Kakashi informed her of the hideous crime's perpetrator.

"There was nothing we could've done," he sighed, running a hand through his grey hair as he lied. "The sickness stole him from us."

"I guess so," Sakura mused, "but I thought it looked like he was recovering when I saw him that morning."

"You must have been fooling yourself, Sakura." The conversation was shut down with a single sentence. She would not question his authority.

If Kakashi regretted anything in his life, it was the events leading up to Naruto's death. When he had come down with a strange disease, the village feared for the worst. When rumors of the Akatsuki's plan to seize the Fox during Naruto's weakest moments started to circulate throughout the townspeople, the village took action. A meeting was called; all of the most influential family leaders and highly ranked ninja were in attendance. Hiashi was the one who suggested the eventual resolution that the council came to. They could not allow those terrorists to have a demon of such ferocity, such power. Jiraiya had confirmed that if the Kyuubi's vessel was to perish, so would the Kyuubi. This was when the sheer horror of what some poor ninja would have to do settled in.

Kakashi was the one they selected. He would do the act in the most humane way, they decided, and he would be kind enough to explain to Naruto the reason that he would have to lose his life.

He tried to explain. He really did. Naruto couldn't understand, though. He protested, said he had done so much for the village, asked what had he done to deserve such a fate. Kakashi acknowledged Naruto's statements. He tried his best to answer his questions, but the only real answer that he knew was that it was the best for the village. It was the answer the council had told him when he had asked them himself. And as Naruto cried and pleaded, Kakashi's old, worn heart began to crack. The poor boy was only sixteen. He had a whole life ahead of him. He had yet to love, to fully experience life, to do all of the things that Kakashi was inevitably going to take from him.

As Kakashi's heart began to split, Naruto cried harder. He had not begged for anything in his life-not even when Sasuke abandoned the village. Never. But this was different to him. He didn't want to have his life stolen from him. It was the ultimate thing to lose, and when faced with the choice, he wanted to live. He wanted to live so badly that he was willing to get on his knees and beg for all he was worth. He had so much to continue for. He wanted to finally kiss a girl, bring back his comrade, become Hokage; he wanted a great deal of things. He confessed his many dreams to Kakashi; it was his last defense. It had to save him.

Finally, however, when Naruto had exhausted himself to the point where he could do nothing but lie on his hospital bed and wait for the verdict, Kakashi exited the room. He strolled down the hallway and explained his problem to the nurse, Shizune. She nodded with sympathy in her eyes and said that she understood. How could she, though, when she had never been forced to take the life of someone dear to her?

She said that she would help, and she reached into her kimono to draw out a small packet. Shizune explained what it was, strychnine, she said. She ripped off the top and emptied it into Naruto's water glass, all the while telling Kakashi not to worry. "It's not your burden anymore," she said, smiling sadly as she continued wheeling the refreshments cart down the hallway.

Kakashi slid down the wall and onto the floor. He took his head in his hands, fighting back tears as he heard Naruto's words. "He won't do it, Shizune!" Naruto said jubilantly.

Kakashi could see his cerulean eyes sparkling, the grin spreading across his tan face.

"Of course not."

Kakashi had had to flee the hospital at that moment. He rushed down the stairs, knocking into numerous patients and workers in his mad escape. He knew what would happen in mere hours. After excruciating muscle spasms all over Naruto's body, the boy's nervous system would finally shut down. Naruto would never get to experience any of the things that he had told Kakashi he dreamed of. He would never see himself grow up. He would never be a man.

The news came late that night. "Naruto Uzumaki is dead!" Those words started in the hospital, whispered into the ears of passerby, and through those passing people, were circulated throughout the village. Few knew the circumstances of his death. It was thought that disease had finally taken him. Only Kakashi and Shizune knew the truth, though.

More news came the next day. Rumors were only rumors. The Akatsuki had no plans to extract the Kyuubi; they had bigger problems at hand. And so Kakashi began a downward spiral. He took to drinking late at night, becoming later to meetings with the only remaining member of his beloved Team Seven, Sakura. His conscience told him that it was all his fault. She would have never put Naruto through such a death had Kakashi not told her of the circumstances. Shizune left the village. She couldn't handle the realization that she had murdered an innocent boy, and she met her demise in the rivers of the Wave Country.

Kakashi lived in his dreamlike state for a week or so. It was only when Tsunade informed him of strange disappearances going on within the village's own Hyuuga family that Kakashi was aroused off of his seat in the tavern and out into the world again. He shoved his regrets to the corners of his mind, and began his hunt for the one behind the mystery. He thought it quite ironic-a murderer searching for a murderer.

The mystery carried him to the body in the woods. The awful revelation that the once sweet, shy, and innocent girl had been driven to slay her father by his actions. It was almost too much to bear. This piece of knowledge drove him to command Sakura to go to Hinata; he knew that he would never be able to face her.

And so here Sakura is, laying face down over Kiba's corpse. Her eyesight is starting to clear up. She sees the blood spattered all over the walls, the blood starting to dry up on the floor, the blood smeared all over her hands. It is dawning on her. Sakura scrambles up, pink hair sticking out in clumps around her face. She clutches her stomach, and the remaining contents of her stomach are heaved onto the floor. "Oh dear god," she whispers. "Oh dear god."

She repeats those words, now a meaningless phrase to keep her mouth busy so she won't throw up once more, as she bends down to take Kiba's pulse. Sakura knows that the action is pointless. She wants only confirmation that what she is seeing is reality. An absence of a heartbeat will prove what her mind already knows but is refusing to admit.

Of course, she feels nothing. He is dead. Sakura strides over to Hinata. The dead girl's hand is still grasped around the kunai in her throat; had she known the true horror of what she'd done? Sakura wonders this. Had she known that her actions affected more than just those in her own life? Had she known that she wasn't the only one who loved Naruto? Everyone had loved him in their own way. They all had spent their nights awake in bed, wishing with all of their hearts that he would come back.

Sakura wonders what Hinata must've wished. She knows that it must've been something along these lines, only poisoned with sinister ideas. What had Hinata thought had happened to him? Sakura desperately wishes she could travel back in time and tell Hinata that it was the sickness, only sickness. Her father hadn't had anything to do with it.

If only Sakura could know. If only Hinata had known.

Why must secrets bring such tragedy? Perhaps it is their allure. The way that they tempt and tease the ones ignorant of their mysteries. How they always bring despair to those who wish they knew of their depths. Truth is the only remedy for secrets. Kakashi muses on this as he is led into the Hokage's office to be the bringer of morbid news. Rumors should never be accepted as truth. Truth is sacred. He knows this.

If only he had known this earlier.

If only.

* * *

**Author's Notes - As I was writing an essay for science earlier today, I started to think about this fanfic. I realized that I had left too many questions unanswered, and that you, my readers, deserved much better. And so I was possessed by an intense urge to write a follow-up chapter to solve many of the mysteries left by the original story. I hope that this satisfies the reasons behind Naruto's death, and it gives a greater insight into Hiashi and the village's workings. I hope the writing has matured, as well, since the original fic was written over a year ago. And again, thank you so much for reading Those Days Will Never Come! **


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